


A Slip In Appearance

by redlionspride



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Beards (Facial Hair), Biting, Depression, Drinking, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Prompt Fill, Scruffy Hux, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 03:13:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5895937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlionspride/pseuds/redlionspride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Days after the end of Starkiller Base's destruction, Hux is left to wait while Kylo is medically taken care of, leaving him time to himself to think over every mistake he could possibly have made that he lost the battle. Kylo, returning to the shuttle finds the General in the worst shape possibly, mocking him for his scruffy appearance and pathetic apathy. </p><p>Insults are shared back and forth between them, pushing each others buttons. </p><p>They're both dead man, in the end. Or so they can both agree in that much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Slip In Appearance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oppressa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oppressa/gifts).



> This is another prompt fill for a tfa_kinkmeme! the prompt was simply:  
>  _Kylo/Hux, scruffy Hux, verbal humiliation_  
>  Anon probably has some kind of weird anti-uniform kink and loves it in a fic when Hux isn't as formally turned out as usual. So I'd like something where Kylo finds him dirty/sweaty/ less than perfect, and degrades him for it mercilessly while still referring to him by rank, just to drive it in that he looks nothing like a General of the First Order right then.  
> Found here:  
> http://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/1841.html?thread=1660721#cmt1660721
> 
> I had fun with this and I hope anon and others enjoy it as well! Thank you everyone for all the amazing encouragement! It makes writing more of these much easier :D

Stationed at a medical frigate in the Unknown Regions, General Hux of the First Order found himself suspended until further notice. In truth, he wasn’t even stationed here but in the middle of limbo. Supreme Leader Snoke told him to gather up Kylo Ren and come before him, but by time he found Ren and made it off planet the Knight needed medical attention. 

In his order for suspension he was tasked to stay and keep an eye on the dark warrior. Wait until he recovered and then pilot him back to Snoke. Basically he has been been demoted to a common chauffeur until the matter at hand was settled. 

That matter was his precious Starkiller Base was destroyed by pesky, annoying gnats. Tiny little insects buzzing about and getting into the works. Everything they had worked so hard for, gone with a few Resistance problems. He had been assured that the best precautions had been made. He looked over everything himself in the designs. They had put so much thought into it so they would not fall like the Great Empire had. 

Yet here he was, a fallen man, waiting for the orders of either death or demotion. He wasn’t sure which he would prefer. 

They had been here for five days now, and it had been an entire standard week since the base was lost. Kylo Ren was placed in a bed on the secret Medical Frigate while he stayed in the personal cabin of the shuttle he flew them in on, not at all wishing to be around anyone else at the moment. 

Not only because he felt like a failure but he looked like one as well. 

Hux’s natural grooming tended to be perfect, practiced and performed the same way every morning. Rise and shine at an early but orderly hour. Water and anxiety medication taken. Morning work out, quick and fast. A shave and a shower followed by carefully grooming his hair. Once finished he would pull on his perfectly pressed uniform and well shined shoes before ever stepping towards the door let alone out it. 

It was a daily ritual. On days when he had no time for such matters he still managed to get in a quick shave and a perfect uniform. There was no excuse for not looking presentable 100% of the time. 

Now? What was the point? 

When they first arrived he was still in the uniform he wore while on the base. Clean still, but a few days old at most. A fresh suit would have been liked, but it didn’t matter much at the moment. Snoke's precious Knight needed to be taken care of, and he already had his blood on the shirt and pants. The damned fool fought him tooth and nail when he tried to compress dress it. 

By time they got him off the damn shuttle, the General felt bone weary and disheveled beyond belief. If you had asked him a week before, he would say he could never see himself in that state of disrepair on purpose. There was always time to wash up, even if it was just a bottle of water. 

At medical, he was checked out as well, but deemed fine. He passed up the offered room and went back to the shuttle, requesting updates via comlink when there was information to be had on the Knight. 

Not that he cared. 

All normal personal hygiene care had gone out the window from there on out. The coat had been lost as soon as he got on board with the Knight and got to hyperspace. The uniform tunic and over belt was dropped that night as he sat in the cockpit of the shuttle watching the stars blur by, ignoring the blood stains on his shirt and hands. A fine red stubble had begun to grow over his overly pale jawline, standing out just slightly. 

Now? Days later he had a fair amount of scruff around his jaw and lip, not at all taken care of, groomed or tamed. The only combing that had touched his face was a racking of sharp nails scratched over itchy skin. 

His hair was unwashed, oil making it clump together in haphazard places as his hand ran through it every now and again. It felt dirty but he didn’t seem to care much. He did no workouts or strenuous activity, so he had not broken a sweat, but it still felt heavy to him.

Seated in the small passenger room of the shuttle the once proper and prideful General now slumped into a chair, legs sprawled open and bare feet flexing and curling every once in awhile, cold steel under toes. His uniform pants had at least been changed to a pair of dark forest green maintenance pants he found spare in the sleep quarters, though there was very little else to change into to be found. Once changed into the pants he found himself far too apathetic to bother pulling his boots back on. Somewhere along the line his socks came off as well. 

Under his dark uniform he tended to wear a thin black shirt to protect the uniform from his own body odour, which in turn kept the uniforms lasting longer. Under that a thin white tank top. By now he was down to just that, the thin white tank top. It was untucked and rumpled around his waist, the neckline just a little off center. 

In his hand he held a glass half filled (though it was full not long before) with an amber liquor he had found stashed away in the cabin. A cheap Corellian whiskey. He didn’t care what the swill tasted like, it did the trick. It numbed the brain a bit more then his numb brain already felt. 

To his right his comlink blipped twice. It took him a moment to remember the sound of it, as he hadn’t heard from anyone for days, simply pacing around in the shuttle on his own, letting his brain work over and over again every little detail of what the fuck went wrong. 

Over every thought of what they would do to him when this was over. 

Over the mass amount of perfectly trained men and troopers that were on the station, all lost in a single moment. 

The humongous sum of money down the drain in one simple rebellious attack. 

Perhaps it was fair payback for taking out Hosnian Prime. Though that was a bigger target than their little planetary weapon, it was still a hard blow to the First Order. Not only in loss of troopers but _good_ troopers. Loyal troopers. He prided himself on having well trained troops, working close with Phasma in order to pick out the best. Of all the troops they had they only ever had one that became a problem. 

That problem had come back and bit them in the ass. 

Every time he thought of that problem, Stormtrooper FN-2187, another nerve would break in the back of his mind and anger ran through his system. One man. One simple dreadful man had been the root of all their problems. 

His hand had suffered as well when he thought of it. A moment of rage the day before as he realized it. His fist introduced itself several times to a cabin wall, letting the pain that rocked through his hand and down his bones to his shoulder make him feel mildly better. 

General Hux never lost his cool like that. 

Hux had no cool left to him at the moment. 

Now that bruised and bloodied hand moved to give his glass to the other hand before reaching over to the seat beside him to pick up the comlink. It was still going off. 

“Hux here.” He said into it, dry lips narrowed in a frown as he spoke. No title. Not ‘General Hux’. He didn’t feel like that man right now. 

“General, sir…” a nervous sounding nurse spoke on the other side. “It’s about Kylo Ren, sir.” 

_Please tell me he’s dead._ He thought bitterly as he held the Comlink up. “Go on.” His voice didn’t carry the normal clip that it would have. It sounded tired, even in such a short statement. As if this entire conversation, what little there was, was too much effort. 

“He’s awake sir, and demanding to leave. The Doctor would like him to stay put however. The wound he sustained to his side is still on the mend.” 

“Then give him a heavy sedative and leave him be.” Hux said with a half hearted snarl. They didn’t need to call him for this kind of information. 

“Sir, we were about to but he’s left his room already. He’s headed for your shuttle.” 

“Oh for fucks sake.” He said out loud to just himself, his hand with the comlink falling into his lap and his head tilting back into the wall. After a moment he picked it up again and simply said. “Understood.” Before pitching the comlink across the small cabin, letting it bounce off a wall, klink off the ground and skitter across the floor to a stop. 

Tipping back his glass he drained another fourth of it, trying to convince himself to get up and move. To lock down the boarding ramp even. It was too late though, as he heard the ramp lowering at the back of the shuttle. 

It took less than a minute to hear the man's boots hit the ramp and come on board. With a hard slap the ramp button was hit again and it came back up, closing the shuttle up once more behind him. 

Hux didn’t move. He hadn’t bothered to get up. There was no way he could move in time to change, wash up or bother running a comb through his mess of hair. Then again he didn’t care either. What was the point right now? 

It was only Kylo. 

Which actually was an issue, because he prided himself on being better then the man, in everything humanly normal. Yet here he was, sprawled out in a chair, mind numbed with alcohol, feet bare and dirty on the bottom, and unkempt. A complete mess. Perhaps not Coruscant bottom-feeder-bums dirty, but a mess all the same. 

The footfalls came in and stopped abruptly. He could feel the man’s stare without even looking up to him. He could feel the eyes glancing over him, taking in an appearance that was not at all a General let alone Hux. 

Taking another sip of his drink he slowly glanced over to the man. “You were told to stay in bed, were you not?” 

Kylo Ren, a very tall man, muscular yet slender with dark hair that somehow amazingly seemed light and clean even while having been in a medical bed all this time, stood there in the entrance way. Staring. 

Both eyes were still in tact, dark and brooding. A long jagged rest scar ran across his face however. A lightsaber slash that could have been worse if the thrust was just a little higher or a little deeper. A young face made older with signs of battle. A pretty face made more manly. 

He looked over the man who stood there, his hands held tight over black clothing, his boots pulled on over hospital pants, but his chest bare. There were still medical patches adhered to his skin here and there, and one large bacta patch pressed into his torso where the bow-caster shot hit him, one on the shoulder where a lightsaber stabbed into it.

The look on the man's face was a long stare of disbelief.

“I said, you were told to stay in medical. What are you doing here?” Hux spoke again, head leaning back into the wall once more, eyes lazily watching the Knight stand there, flabbergasted. 

“Oh how the mighty have fallen, _General._ ” Ren said at last, head lifting a bit more as if to look down upon the general past his large nose. 

Hux snorted, lifting his glass to take another sip. Disgusting himself further by looking away from Ren to elsewhere, realizing after he had done it that he was embarrassed to even speak to this man. The tone he used when calling him by his rank burned in his chest. 

With a heavy clunk of the man's belt and clothes, tossed to the side of the crew area and on the floor, freeing his hands, Hux heard him moving, coming closer. The Knight stepping slowly in front of his view, head tilted and eyes narrowed. A single brow lifted to stare. 

Then a slow twisted smile seemed to come to Ren’s face. Hux wanted to slap it off. “I never thought I’d see the day…” his deep voice said, words slow and clear, as if to make sure Hux’s slowed brain would catch every one of them. “The _great_ General Hux, wallowing in a pit of wretched pity over his one little mistake. Oh, wait… that was a pretty big mistake, wasn’t it?” 

“Shut it, Ren.” Hux said without looking up to the scared face staring at him. Instead he stared at the trimmed belly of the man trying to force him to look at him. Stupid damn knight. He wanted to kick him at the moment. A childish thought, but he wasn’t feeling exactly up to snuff right now. 

“You look like hell, General.” Kylo said, coming closer and crouching before the man, his booted feet stopping just between the others bare feet. Dark eyes narrowed as he inspected the man's face. “I thought I was the one that had it rough.” 

“You look like you had it rough. Seen a mirror lately?” He said in a slow tone. Perhaps he’d had one too many glasses to drink today. 

Kylo sneered at the comment though, so Hux felt a little bit better. Except a moment after the sneer, the dark warrior reached a hand out swiftly and pinched a hand full of red hair at his jaw, yanking on it and shaking Hux’s face back and forth with it. “Have _you_ looked at yourself lately, General? You’re one to talk about mirrors.” 

Hux’s hand came up swiftly, grabbing the hand that grabbed him and shoved it, forcing him to let him go. “Fuck off, Ren.” He growled, drawing his hand back to scratch through the grabbed section of beard, as if offended the other touched it at all. 

“Oh I seem to have struck a nerve. You never curse at at me outright.” Kylo lifted his chin, head tilting a bit as he looked over the man. “We’re leaving now, General.” 

“We’re not.” Hux said simply, taking another sip of his drink. The last sip, actually, as Ren reached out to steal his glass. Which was fine, as there was little left in it anyhow. “We’re to stay here until you have been cleared to go and until Snoke summons us otherwise.” 

“I’m not staying here, _General_. Just because you decided to drink yourself into a stupor and smell as if you’ve been sleeping with bantha doesn’t mean your disappointing failure has to condemn me to this medical station. We’re leaving.” The knight said with a hiss, sitting the glass down to the side on the floor. 

“You have no choice.” Hux explained without explaining. An uncaring glance to the other, eyes raking over the healing scar over his face. Honestly, it made him look more attractive in a broken kind of way. 

He hated himself for the thought. 

He did like the fact that Ren was glaring at him, more then likely because he wasn’t getting his way.

He raised a brow higher as he realized Ren was still staring at him. “What?” his voice was a bit more of an impatient growl now. What the hell did he want. Go away! 

“One mistake and your entire career is down the drain. A few thousand men died because of one little mistake. How does it feel, General? To know that you’re an even worse leader then the Grand Moff Tarkin, the first disgrace of large weapons and the empire.” 

“How does it feel to have been bested by two untrained _children_ with a weapon you master in?” Hux sneered back, starting to lean forward now to glare into the others face. He noticed the twitch in the man’s eyes at that. “Bested and left lying for dead in the snow. Your honored weapon broken in half no less.” 

Kylo’s lip twitched and his eyes burned with hate at that. For a moment Hux hoped to feel the invisible force of power wrap around his neck and choke him. It would feel a hell of a lot better than this. 

Instead the knight glared at him, words coming out as sharp as daggers. “I did my mission. I killed that treacherous old man, Solo. What the hell did you do when you realized your mistake, _General_?” He continued to say his rank as if it were a deep insult. Right now, it felt like it. “Stand there and cry, or did you run? Slip away without a word to your men. Leave them standing on the bridge dumbfounded by how one tiny band of rebels could slip through your nasty little fingers and destroy you grand life's work. A little girl and a rogue stormtrooper. A handful of snubfighters and it all came falling down around your scrawny pale ankles.” 

With every word Hux’s hazel eyes darkened in anger. He shifted, moving to sit up more, his bruised and bloodied fist balling up. He wanted to punch that glare right off his smug fucking face. “Get. _OUT!_ ” He barked instead, pointing to the exit as if the command would be followed. In his anger another strand of hair fell forward on his forehead, honestly making the appearance of unrestrained rage even stronger in a disheveled kind of way. 

Kylo drew his head back, a sudden sharp smile on his face. “You should look at yourself right now. Riled. Rattled. You’re scared. You’re the new screw up of the Order and aren’t ready to take it. It’s okay. We can wait here another day if you need the time to sober up, _sir_.” 

Hux’s fist opened and closed again, reaching for a moment, like he wanted to grab the man, and when he didn’t, drawing back to lean in the seat again. It was too much. Instead he just rested there, regretting that second full glass of whiskey. If he’d known Ren would wake up and come back at this point he wouldn’t have drank it. 

Out of nowhere the knights voice came out softer, though a bit more annoyed as well. “You came back for me.” He looked at Hux with a confused almost glare. Like he didn’t understand why. 

“Trust me, it wasn’t my idea.” He snorted, looking away in the cabin. Why wouldn’t he go away. “Orders from on high.” 

“You could have lied, General. Said you couldn’t find me.” 

He could have, too, but it’s hard to lie to a person who always seemed to know the truth. “And defy Snoke? I think not. Besides, if I’m going down for this, I‘m taking you with me.” 

The dark haired man stayed where he was, staring, as if confused by that statement though he understood it as well. They were both in deep shit when they faced Snoke together. He could understand making sure that he had someone else there to take part of the burden, but if it were him, would he have bothered. Ren had been in the woods, hard to find. Yet here he was. 

“Stop staring at me like that. Go the fuck away already. Sleeping quarters are over there. Get out of my face.” He hissed, shooting a harder glare at the man. Why, why wouldn’t he leave him alone! Maybe he was wallowing in a pit of self pity, but he wanted to wallow alone! 

Hux was startled however as Ren moved, dropping to a knee as he came forward, leaning in between his sprawled legs. A hand came forward, grabbing at his beard again, though this time he hooked a couple of fingers under his chin as well, pulling the man forward to him. 

Just as Hux was about to protest, he felt the others lips crush in on his, a swift intake of air through the nose, surprised as the other kissed him. Not a soft kiss either, but something that, between them, held a bit more meaning. The two were generally well put together men who had all of their business in order. Right now neither of them looked like they were in proper working order. 

The kiss was harsh, Kylo digging into his lips and pushing them apart with his tongue. With a tip of the head Hux found himself returning it, leaning a bit more forward into it, which was unexpected even for him. The two of them had some unresolved sexual tension to them before, but neither of them had ever acted on it. Why the change now? Life threatening experience shared? The thought that both of them could possibly be going to their very near death in the next few days as they meet with the Supreme Leader? Hux wasn't sure. 

He wasn’t clear minded enough to think about it either.

It was strange to find that the man was intoxicating more than the alcohol had been, numbing his mind faster than an entire bottle could have given him. Perhaps because he wanted to forget everything, even for just a moment. Perhaps it was the pressure and push given to him from the other. 

They always pushed each other. Pushed each other's buttons. 

He felt Kylo’s hand move to the back of his head, gripping a handful of messy, dirty hair and pulling, moving his head back. The man was standing up slowly, but still leaning into the kiss, arching his tall frame over him as he did. Hux felt himself leaning back and chin up to keep it for a moment longer before he felt the Knight withdraw. 

A swift intake of breath followed by both of them and a scruffy looking Hux looked up at Kylo with a surprised look in his eyes. Where the hell did that all come from? He looked up at the man in a almost foggy haze, like he wasn’t sure he wasn’t just dreaming now. 

Reaching down to the dark green pants, Kylo hooked his fingers into the empty belt loops that sat low on the man’s hips. “These aren’t regulation, General.” He started to pull him by the loops, forcing the man to shift and stand. “Perhaps you should take them off.” 

“Or perhaps this is a bad idea and you need to leave.” Hux said at last, staring at the taller man and yet still feeling the tug of his belt loops, pulling him away from his seat and to his bare feet. 

With a snort, Kylo stared at the other, walking backwards and pulling the man along. “We’re more then likely going to be dead in a few days, and you're drunk and scruffy. I can take what I want. You’re not going to protest or complain.” 

Hux’s bare feet stepped along the cold metal floor, stumbling a few steps along with the man, for some reason letting him lead the way to the sleep quarters. He had a point. He wasn’t going to complain or protest. 

And they were more than likely going to be dead in a few days. If not worse. 

“The scar doesn’t detract from your face.” Hux said in a weird form of complimenting the newly scarred man, because in all honesty, it looked pretty good on him. 

“The beard isn’t too bad either, Hux.” Kylo said on a low growl and actually saying the others name, pulling the man around by his pants and shoving him back into one of the bunks hard, leaning into him to claim another hard biting kiss. He broke it for a moment, speaking in that low dark tone of voice of his. “Though I should make you shower. You look like hell.” 

“Bite me.” Hux growled back in return, sucking in a swift breath as he felt Kylo suddenly lean down and do exactly that, leaving marks into his pale skin at his neck. The rest of the evening was going to be full of mind numbing distraction. 

For now, Hux, not General, would gladly take the distractions. 

The beard would be gone by tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> Aparently I have a thing for these two and rough kisses. Whoops...


End file.
